Potential, he says, as if she is to understand what that means. The purpose of potential. Blackthorne had never mentioned the word potential to her and she mulls over the word for a second. Part of her finds this an insult. She was complete, she didn’t need to have potential. Besides, what KIND of potential did he think she had? It is not all an insult though because she slowly recognizes the truth in the words, even while she did not understand whatever truth Elohim was trying to impart. What he saw versus what she saw was likely different. She had potential to be a liar, if she could polish her words and quicken her mind. One had to have a certain slant to their thinking to be successful at such an endeavor. Blackthorne had always done the thinking for her and she had always done the supporting. What did it even mean to be independent? ”I see,” she says quietly, quite obviously not seeing.

This dance with Elohim was an exhausting one. They moved in tandem, stepping, stopping, backing down and fluffing up, neither trusting the other nor unable to see the other in a clear light. He was as much a mystery to the silver lady as she was to him and she didn’t think it likely they would solve that mystery. Still, her confused mind spins back and forth with each new layer of their conversation. All it does is muddle the waters even more.

She notices his lack of answering her question fully. No reason why he is helping, just a blanket statement, much like the one she gives him about why he does what he does. Neither are ready to admit their motives, but she is honest enough with herself to understand she doesn’t even know her motives. What would she do once she left Glorall?

It strikes her that quite possibly hiding will be even harder in the common lands. They were frequently travelled, at least back when she had been party to Blackthorne’s reign. The desire to turn around and flee back to the island grows by the minute.

Elohim’s grin is enough to slap some sense into Natiya for a moment. She had let her guard down and revelaed her relief, even accidentally, and she recoils physically from him before narrowing her pale eyes in some semblance of a glare. Her gaze was daring, accusing. Accusing him silently of trying to find her weakness. She opens her mouth, intending to threaten him into silence, before audibly snapping it shut. Threats weren’t the best idea and besides, who was she kidding? Elohim was much stockier than her. It wasn’t as if she could do him bodily harm, even after having trained with Zharko a few times. Also, if she acknowledged what he thought he saw, it would be as good as admittance. Maybe she could make him doubt it though – but how?

Rather than answer his statement about her waiting she makes a low hum in her throat, noncommittal. Inside her heart stutters but outwardly she closes herself off. Better than before, at least for the moment. It is hard to keep her composure around Elohim and his keen eyes. His examination of Blackthorne, however, was vastly consuming. She stares at Elohim, unblinking for a few moments, letting his words sink in. Hadn’t she felt betrayed when Blackthorne left without her? Without even telling her to tag along? Asking wasn’t his style. Still, she had been with him since infancy, and even if Blackthorne neglected her at various stages in their life, she had always been there. Always been his loyal shadow.

”That’s…” she starts to say in instinctive defense of her brother, agitation once more shining through. Her eyes gleam and it is clear, despite her earlier decision to be better at hiding herself, that she is battling some inner demons. To defend her brother was what she had always done. To protect his name, to follow his path. She had been trained as a child by his teeth, by his words, by his very presence. Seasons away from him and she thought she had changed, but in this moment she realizes how difficult it is to get his claws out of her.

To be simply herself.

Elohim continues. Every word he says is a knife aimed into the center of her being. Over and over he breaks down and disassembles what she has been taught. He speaks gently but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like the earth is quaking beneath her or maybe that is just her thin legs shaking. A low growl bubbles up then, ears turning backwards as she yanks her gaze away from him, glaring into the shade cast by the trees. All she can hear for a minute is the blood roaring in her veins and the voice in her head screaming no! not true!

It was truth though.

Blackthorne left her and she had never been alone. She feared his return because she hadn’t been there but HE left HER. Something was messed up with her. Elohim spins the words back on himself, perhaps sensing how close to the breaking point she was coming, and her eyes slide slowly back to him. A storm rages there on her face. ”What creed do you choose for yourself? The words are tremulous as she fights past the sickness in her stomach. She asked because she needed something to distract her, something that wasn’t about her. It wasn’t likely Elohim would be honest with her, she knew that. He just stated that his loyalty was to himself. If he asked her about her own loyalty, what would she say then?

Abruptly she changes, angsty features hardening once more as she turns and begins to stomp into the trees once more. Elohim might follow, she suspects, because he is too curious by half. ”This is foolish. Blackthorne is gone and I’m just passing through. That is all there is to this,” she mutters aloud. ”Do you make this a habit of all the strays you find?” Bitterness tinges her voice and she latches onto it, nurtures it as she swings her head around to glare at Elohim. She might not physically lash out at him, but he was right about being on the defensive. Natiya’s claws were unsheathed and ready to slash.